Above the clouds, and looking down below
Seeing all the magnificent hues of blue, the lightest almost white and the darkest black as night
Awestruck by the beauty and when thought finally comes
All I can think of is what is already known
“The sky is endless”
Just as the ocean seems to be
And that the small, wisps of clouds
When seen from below aren’t so miniscule from above
They look just like the foam that comes riding in on the backs of crashing waves
The birds are the sky’s fish,
Dipping in and out, above and under the clouds
Is that why the human race is wanting so much to fly?
Because we can’t breathe under water, but we can in the sky?